


Selphia Valentines

by Laima



Category: Rune Factory (Video Games), Rune Factory 4
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Rune Factory Valentine's Week 2015, Valentine's Challenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-11 13:09:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3327911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laima/pseuds/Laima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Series of one-shots for the Rune Factory Valentine's Week Challenge. Platonic and romantic relationships, both likely and unlikely are explored.<br/>First Meeting, Nightmares, Confession/Misunderstanding, and Rarepair/AU/Comfort are all up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 1:  
>  **First Meeting** or ~~Last Meeting~~  
>  Vishnal and Clorica
> 
> Clorica meets her newly hired coworker, and is less than impressed.

I stretched and yawned as Volkanon’s voice boomed through the butler’s dorms. I shuffled to his room and knocked lightly on the doorframe

“What’s the matter, Sir?”

My boss huffed, bent over his desk, frantically going through papers and clearly so frustrated he was close to tears.

“There have been no promising young students! We need a replacement for James immediately! Oh, why did that boy have to go off and get married?”

“Oh, but it was such a lovely ceremony,” I reminisced. This did not appear to help his mood, so I slipped out to make him a pitcher of extra-strong relax tea.

“Clorica!” he bellowed.

“Yes?” I called back, my voice sounding even quieter compared to his. I stepped into his room, pulled a teacup from his cabinet, and began pouring his tea.

“I’ve searched nearly the entire kingdom, and I’ve managed to find one more student-”

“How lovely! We can hire them right away.”

“Oh, no, no, no! You’ve seen the other potentials, they were horrifying!”

“I think you were being a little harsh on them, Sir,” I murmured, pulling the kettle up just as the tea reached the brim of the cup.

“I was certainly not!” Volkanon cried, indignant. He gulped down half his cup. “The butlers in the Palace of Lady Ventuswill-”

“Native Dragon, Protectorate of Selphia, and The Divine Winds must be on duty at all times,” I rattled off and continued, “I know, Sir, but they are just students. They will take time.”

He harrumphed.

“You, Miss Clorica, are indeed lucky you were taken in and hired with all that sass,” he muttered into his teacup.

I patted his shoulder and felt the muscles under my hand begin to un-tense from the double-dose relax tea.

“He’ll come in tomorrow. Heavens, I hope he’ll do.”

 

➽➽➽

I woke up with a start leaned against the front of the castle and the vague feeling that I was forgetting something. I yawned and slowly re-plaited my hair as I mulled over what it could be. Leave something on the stove? Forget to press my uniform? Did I leave my wine bottle somewhere where Volknanon could find it?  
“Er, Miss?” A strange voice, simultaneously cautious but loud piped up. I jumped to see a tall, gangly teenager with hair so blonde it was white.

Ohhhh, waiting for the newbie! That was it.

The boy clearly had somesort of internal struggle raging within him as he forced down his shyness to try to feign an air of confidence.

“M-My name’s Vishnal! Vishnal Edwards. I’m here t-to-”

“To interview to become a student?” I interrupted, then kicked myself for seeming impolite.

Fortunately, newbie took the interruption as help, and smiled broadly.

“Yes! I’m so glad I’m in the right place! I was so worried…”

“Well, there’s only one castle in this town. It’d be hard to miss,” I mentioned, re-fastening my flower pin on my jacket.

“You’re absolutely right!” he laughed nervously. I stared at this strange boy, and he squirmed under my gaze. I sighed, wondering how Volkanon was going to take this tall, trembling kid. Desperate times call for desperate measures, I guess.

➽➽➽

 

“Miss Clorica!” Volkanon boomed to me. I always wondered why he was so very loud, when we only lived about six feet from each other.

“Yes, Sir?” I replied obediently, sleepily wandering into his room.

The half-elf was clearly holding back tears, and I rushed to his side and started rubbing his back that was starting to heave up and down with sobs.

“Did the new boy not work out?”

“No,” he managed to work out inbetween gasps.

“Oh, Sir, I’m sure we’ll find another student, and until then, it can just be you and me, we’ve managed so far-”

“No!” he bellowed, startling me, and sitting up suddenly.

“Sir, I’m sure-”

“No! You misunder _stand_ , Clorica! He’s- he’s-”

“Horrible, like the others? I agree, Sir, he’s not nearly ready-”

“NO! You misunderstand! He’s _perfect_!”

My hand stopped mid-rub.

“What?”

“He’s perfect!” Volkanon grinned through his gasping sobs. “He’s just young enough to train and whip him into shape, he’s used to dirty work, and he’s just so _passionate_!”

I felt my eyebrows lift. If _Volkanon_ of all people was calling someone passionate, then that must be something. I thought back to that strange, lanky kid this morning, stumbling over his words and looking nervous just to be here. I sighed, and reminded myself that, while often extremely emotional, I’ve never found Volkanon’s judgement to be wrong.

➽➽➽

The strange boy had been staying in the inn during the interview process, but now, since Volkanon officially decided to take him in as a student, he was moving into James’s old room in the castle with us. I was slightly annoyed at this, because it meant that I could no longer duck into his room and take a nap on his bed when I told Volkanon I was dusting.

The boy panted, bags swinging as he rushed to catch up to me as I was carrying a pile of his books from Lin Fa’s to the castle.

“So, Clo!” he started when he caught up with me, clearly about ready to launch into some story.

“Clorica,” I corrected.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” he looked horrified. “My brothers and sisters all have nicknames, I guess I just keep forgetting I’m not home, I’m so sorry, _Clorica_. _Clo_ rica. Clor _i_ ca. Clor _ica_. That’s such a pretty name!”

“It’s prettier when you don’t say it twenty times,” I mumbled, but the boy heard.

“Ohhh, I am so sorry! I just-” he sighed. “I shouldn’t be making excuses. I’m sorry.”

I rolled my eyes. “Apology accepted.”

His face lit up. “Fantastic! So, Clorica, what’s it like living in the castle? It’s such a beautiful building, don’t you think?”

“It’s lovely,” I said, both answering his question and agreeing with his statement.

The boy was quiet for about a block, then opened his mouth again, looked over at my expression, and shut it again. We made it to the castle in silence, and I deposited the stack of his books in the northeastern corner of his room so I could stretch and crack my back. Newbie looked around the room so excitedly I thought he was going to kiss the furniture, and I decided I’d leave him to it and slipped out of the door.

➽➽➽

 

I woke up to an odd sound I had never heard before. It wasn’t Volkanon’s snoring, because, while it was excessively loud, I was used to that. No, it sounded more like… squeaking? Native dragons, if we have another chipsqueak infestation in the rafters I’m going to _personally_ send whoever brought them in to the forest of beginnings.

The sound didn't stop, so I stretched and got out of bed, blearily shoving my feet into slippers and squinting up at the ceiling for any signs of unwelcome critters. I couldn't see any chewed wood or nests, but the noises still continued. I sighed, and wandered into the hallway to get more light. The noises started getting more pronounced, like I was getting closer to them, so I tiptoed towards the origin. It sounded like they were coming from James’s room, which would make sense, chipsqueaks probably would want to live as far away from Volkanon’s noise as possible. I quietly snuck into the room, as to not wake the new boy, but to my surprise he was already awake and sitting upright in his bed.

“Miss C-Clorica!” he half-shouted, jolting back and trying to cover his face.

“Ssshhhh, you’ll wake up Volkanon!” I snapped. The newbie’s breath shuddered violently.

“It’s not even the first day,” - he was crying so hard he could barely get the rest of his sentence out -  “and I’m already screwing everything up!” he wailed, burying his face into his blanketed knees.

“What? No, dummy, I just told you to be quie-”

“No, you’re right!” he declared dramatically, sitting up quickly, tears streaming down his pale face, “I am a dummy and I can’t do anything right! I’ll never be as good a butler as you, or Sir Volkanon, and I’ll never be able to help people because I already failed at being a doctor and now I failed at this!”

“Woah,” I said, not knowing quite how to process the boy’s outburst. “Hey, now, you… uh… you know that’s not true.”

“It is! I should just leave now, in the middle of the night, so no one else will know of my failure!” he leapt out of bed and started shoving his belongings back in the bags we carried them over in.

“Hey, hey, now,” I caught his thin wrist in my hand and stopped it mid-reach for a book. “You’re not leaving. We need you.”

The boy sighed a shaky sigh. “You need someone better.”

“That’s not true.” I said calmly. “Volkanon is incredibly excited you’re his student.”

“You- I… I hate to accuse you of lying, Miss Clorica, but-”

“But I’m not,” I assured him. “Take a deep breath, kid, and lie back down.”

He took another shuddering breath and sat down on the edge of his bed weakly. I let go of his wrist and sat next to him, and began rubbing his back like I do Volkanon.

“Before you accuse me of lying again, kid, let me get my story out. Our last butler, James, left to get married, so we needed another student to take in and teach and hire. Volkanon and I looked through bunches of potentials, and he rejected them all.” Newbie’s breathing seemed to be getting more regular. “We were getting desperate, but then Volkanon heard of a young man who had been studying like crazy for an opportunity like this.” I looked him in the eye to make sure he was following my story. “And then we interviewed him, and that night, Volkanon was _sobbing_. I could barely calm him down.”

The new kid looked horrified at this, all blood gone from his cheeks, which made the red teartracks stand out even more in the moonlight.

“But something you’ll learn about Volkanon _because you’ll be his student_ is that he cries at everything, even when he’s happy. And I’ve never seen him so excited about a prospective student. He wouldn’t stop gushing about your potential and your enthusiasm.”

His expression slowly changed from horror to wonder.

“I even overheard him talking to Lady Ventuswill about how great you’re going to be.”

“Th-the Native Dragon Lady Ventuswill?”

“No, his pet Pomme Pomme of the same name.”

He nodded enthusiastically. “It is still a high compliment!”

I took my hand off of his bony back and gently thwapped the back of his head. “Of course the Native Dragon, you nimrod,” I said, laughing at his gullibility. He looked shocked. “Even better!” he practically squealed. I shushed him again, and replaced my hand on his back, running it over his spine that jutted out prominently from his thin frame.

“Is there anything else you’re worried about, er- Vidnil?”

“Vishnal!” he corrected with a smile. “But my brothers and sisters call me Vin. Or Vishie. Or Fishie. Depends on the kid and the day,” he laughed softly, looking at his hands.

“Vishnal’s good. Do you miss them?”

“Unequivocally and immeasurably,” he sighed. “I have eleven younger siblings-”

“ _Eleven_?”

“Yes! My father wanted another, but my mother was too superstitious to. Apparently in some places, 13 is an unlucky number, did you know that?”

“I didn’t.”

Vishnal swung his feet and sniffed, his mood clearly improving. “Apparently it is. My father is a doctor, and a man of science, and attempted to persuade my mother that such beliefs were silly, but she held fast.”

“Well, twelve is a lot, already.”

“It is. Our house was never quiet, nor boring,” he said with a smile. “By the Divine Winds, though, I never thought I would miss them so much after only two days…”

“Is this your first time being apart from them?”

He nodded. “Aside from sleepovers at friends’ yes. And even then I would see them the next morning…”

I turned and wrapped my arms around him tightly, squeezing him just like Volkanon did on my third day when I fell asleep and crashed into a bookshelf, toppling the entire contents and burying myself in books whose edges jabbed me and whose weight crushed me. I was so scared and shocked that when Volkanon reached into the pile and pulled me out I started weeping into his massive shoulder.

The feeling of Vishnal’s arms squeezing me back brought me out of my reverie and I gently stroked his head.

“You’ll be all right here, Vishnal. I promise you that the other butlers will start to feel like family soon. And the townsfolk are just as good, they’ll love you for sure.”

His frame started to shudder again. I pulled back to look him in the face.

“What, why are you crying again? I didn’t mean we’d replace your family or anything, I-”

Vishnal smiled and sniffed. “No, no, I’m just… Thank you, Clorica. Thank you so much, I feel so much better.”

I grinned, relieved. “I’m glad, Vin,” I said, standing up off his bed. He sighed, and I could hear the past hour or so’s mixed bag of emotions leaving him in that sigh. He scooched over, refluffed his pillow, and pulled his blankets up.

“Thank you,” he repeated.

I planted a quick kiss on his forehead and turned to walk out. I stopped in his doorway and turned back around.

“Oh, and… It’s okay if you call me Clo. I don’t mind if it’s just you who does it.”

Vishnal beamed, and I couldn’t help but smile back at the kid.


	2. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2:  
>  **Nightmares** or ~~Daydreaming~~  
>  Vishnal/Frey
> 
> Vishnal never sleeps well when Frey is out late.

Click-click, click-click, went Vishnal’s boots as he paced back and forth, back and forth across the easternmost room in the castle. Click, click, click, every sound another second passing, every second passing a new worry creeped into the butler’s mind.

_Where is she?_

Vishnal checked his pocketwatch yet again: still half past midnight.

_Did something happen?_

He thought he heard someone outside, so he stopped pacing and turned expectantly towards the back door. A bird hopped into the light leaking from the castle outside, and Vishal sighed. Normally he would go and visit Clorica to soothe his worries, but he was sure she was already sound asleep, and she wouldn’t take lightly to being woken up again this week. He brought his thumb up to his mouth and began unconsciously chewing on his nail, but swatted his own hand down when he remembered how unprofessional and unsanitary his old habit was. He checked his pocket watch again.

00:32.

Looking out both doors once more and seeing no sign of his wife, the butler sighed and changed into his pyjamas. He _hated_ going to bed without her. They had only been married for a season, but he had always found it difficult to sleep alone. In his family’s home there were always brothers and sisters pleading to sleep in his big-boy-bed, and still others wiggling their way between the sheets without even asking. He smiled at the thought, and made a mental note to arrange a trip so he could introduce Frey to the family he missed so much.

_That is, if she’s still alive._

His stomach churned at the intrusive thought, and as much as he tried to push it away with no, she is a skilled warrior, there is nothing she can’t handle it still wormed its way through his brain and tightened his throat.

Vishnal eventually fell into a restless sleep, tossing and turning and waking up with a start whenever he heard a noise that could have been Frey returning, but never was. Disappointment and worry growing, he managed to fall back asleep using the calming breathing exercises Clorica taught Volkanon and Vishnal for when they were having more emotional episodes.

_Six, seven, eight, nine, ten, exhale… One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, inhale…_

__

_Frey was fighting a mob of Malm Tigers and they just kept knocking her back, one, two, three, four, all in a row, they surrounding her, keeping her down, five, six, seven, eight, and scratching her with their sharp blue claws right across her beautiful face, until one finally grazed her throat, and… and…_

“Darling? Darling!” Frey’s face appeared out of the bleary vision of Leon Karnak. Frey’s beautiful, tired but intact face. Her hands were gently but firmly on Vishnal’s shoulders, keeling on their bed, shaking him awake.

“Oh- oh Princess!” Vishnal whispered, so relieved he called her by her title instead of her pet name and threw his arms around her.

Frey laughed sympathetically, and squeezed him back. “Nightmares again?”

She could feel Vishnal nodding his head against her shoulder. Frey pulled back and cupped her husband’s face in her hands and smiled tiredly. “It’s okay, darling, I’m right here. I promise.”

“B-but, where were you? It must be four in the morning!”

“Darling, I told you, I was cleaning the seasonal fields. Typhoons mean a lot of work for me.”

“Oh.” He felt a flush rise from his neck to his face. “I had forgotten.”

Frey stroked his cheek with her right thumb before standing back up off the bed and moving to the wardrobe to change into her nightgown.

“I’m sorry it took so long - I always forget how much of a pain the extra fields are. I swear, there was a tree nearly the size of Bado that fell over that was  in the spring field! It must have taken an hour just to chop into manageable pieces, and then I had to haul it all the way back here… ugh,” she finished her story as she pulled the cotton shift over her head. The princess pulled off her fighting gloves and gently placed them on her nightstand before writing a quick note in her diary. Vishnal pulled the sheets up for her, and she sighed with happiness and exhaustion as she slipped into bed next to him. Her breathing quickly became slow and even, so Vishnal knew he didn’t have much time to ask his wife his question.

“Er, love?”

Frey mumbled an acknowledgement, face buried into the butler’s chest.

“How’s our little secret doing?”

Frey raised her head to make eye contact with Vishnal before sleepily guiding one of his hands to the barely perceptible bump on her abdomen.

“Just fine,” she reassured groggily, thumb rubbing comforting circles on his hand. “I made sure to take breaks and eat a lot. Don’t worry.”

Vishnal felt all the muscles in his body that he didn’t even know were tensed relax at once.

“So when can I tell everyone?”

“Not tonight,” Frey murmured, and gently pressed her lips to his collarbone before nodding off again, and this time Vishnal finally joined her in peaceful sleep.


	3. Confession/A Misunderstanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3:  
>  **Confession** or ~~Unrequited~~ / **a misunderstanding**  
>  Doug/Dylas
> 
> Meg knows when her friends are hiding something from her, but Dylas's admission is completely misunderstood by a third party.

 

Margaret was sashaying around the restaurant, duster in hand, stepping on skilled toes around spots on the floor wet from Dylas’s mop.

“You missed a spot,” she chirped, gracefully pointing to a corner as she leapt onto the countertop and perched precariously on the edge.

Dylas glowered at her and mopped the piece of floor with a little more force than necessary.

“Aww, what’s up, buttercup?” Meg pushed her lower lip out at her coworker.

“Nothing,” he said, a little too quickly and a little too sharply.

The blonde slumped, eyebrows knotting in concern.

“Whaaaaat? Tell me, Dylas!”

“Nothing!”

“Dylas!” Meg whined at his lack of cooperation, but when the man didn’t respond she waited until he was within kicking distance from her countertop and swung her pointed toe into his lower back.

“Hey! Knock it off!”

“Not if you don’t tell me what’s wrong!” the elf insisted, jumping off the counter and started poking the guardian incessantly in the arm.

Dylas caught her wrist and glared at her. Meg huffed and began jabbing him with the other hand, maintaining eye contact.

“Tell. Me. What’s. Wrong,” she demanded, peppering each word with increasingly harder pokes.

Dylas grabbed her other wrist and twirled one of Margaret’s arms around over her head, forcing the elf to spin a half circle and stop, back against Dylas and arms crossed in front of her.

“If you promise you can _keep your hands to yourself_ , I’ll tell you.”

“I promise!”

“And you cannot tell anyone.”

“I swear!”

Meg heard a sigh from behind her and tried to wiggle out of Dylas’s grip, but he held fast.

“I… I have feelings for someone.”

Meg was thankful that he couldn’t see the grin lighting up her face.

“Really? Who?”

“I- it’s embarrassing.”

“You can tell me! I already promised! You can’t go back now!”

Dylas swore under his breath, and leaned closer to Margaret’s ear.

“It’s- I like- or at least I think I like… Doug,” he spat the name out as quickly and as quietly as he could.

Meg _shrieked_ and started bouncing with delight, causing the man to let go of her in fear of getting his nose broken by the now hyperactive musician.

“Ohhh, Dylieeee! Why didn’t you tell me sooner! Oh, it would have been so much easier! Of course I knew for the longest time, you’re so bad at keeping secrets,” she gushed, entire body emoting.

“What? How could you know?” Dylas demanded, face slowly turning scarlet.

The blonde opened her mouth, but before she could begin listing the obvious, another voice trilled from the stairs.

“Ohohohoho, two of my babies are in love! This is so exciting, _non_? Oh, I cannot wait to cater the wedding! I saw it all from the stairwell, but I just couldn’t interrupt such a moment!” Porcoline sniffed, dabbing at his eyes with his apron. “Oh my darling, lovely Meggy, I haven’t seen you that excited in so long!” he cried as he thundered down the stairs and swept the girl into a hug.

Meg’s initial surprise left her face and was instantly replaced with laughter, while Dylas remained dumbfounded, mouthing the word ‘wedding’ as if he had never heard it before.

Margaret’s tears of laughter and the compression from the chef’s hug made it hard to get her explanation out that no, she and Dylas were not engaged and were not even dating. Porcoline looked disappointed and waddled back upstairs dejected at the lack of inter-restaurant romance. When he was safely back upstairs, Meg winked at her friend and whispered “I’m glad you told me, but you need to tell _him_  now.”

“Now?”

“As soon as possible, Dyl, otherwise there’ll just be more false rumors like this one.”

The guardian huffed when he realized Margaret was being completely serious, and pulled on his coat to head to the general store.


	4. Rarepair/AU/Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 4:  
>  **Rarepairs/Crackships** ~~or~~ **AU** ~~or~~ **Comfort/Safety**  
>  Clorica/Leon
> 
> College AU. Clorica discovers something new about Leon and learns something old about Leon in the process.

Clorica stretched as she slowly woke up on Leon’s futon. Her droopy eyes caught Leon’s bright ones and she winked at him before a yawn caught up with her and ruined the attempt at sexiness. Leon laughed and ruffled her lilac hair.

“Good afternoon, sleeping beauty.”

“Mmmm, is it already?”

Leon looked at his watch. “Two fourteen in the afternoon.”

“Rats,” she mumbled, propping herself on her elbows and rubbing her eyes. “Now my schedule’s going to be off on Monday.”

The boy laughed at her again and sat up to get off the makeshift bed. “Since when is it not off?”

Clorica thought about this for a minute, then shrugged. “I guess you’re right,” she conceded, holding out her arm. Leon took her hands and helped the groggy girl stand.

“You should put some proper clothes on so we can get breakfast, missy,” Leon teased, eyebrow raised.

“I will when you put a shirt on,” Clorica retorted, leaning against the bedframe and beginning to redo her braids.

“I would, see, but you’re wearing mine.”

The girl looked down, then back at her boyfriend. “You’re right. Luckily you have others,” she mused, looking pointedly at his overflowing dresser.

Leon groaned melodramatically  “But what if I want that one?” he teased, and Clorica shrugged.

“Then you should have thought of that sooner.”

Leon chuckled at her deadpan as he made his way to his pile of clothes and yanked two shirts out from the heap without toppling the whole thing.

“Blue or white?”

Clorica hummed, twirling the end of her braid inbetween her fingers before deciding. “Blue. It brings out your eyes.”

Clorica watched as he pulled the blue cotton over his head, eyes raking over the tan, muscular body she’d seen dozens of times before but still couldn’t keep from looking at.

But, wait- what was that?

The girl could have sworn she saw a dark patch on his rib that wasn’t there before, and squinted, but couldn’t get a good look before it was covered by the shirt. Leon noticed her gaze and winked gratuitously.

“Like what you see?” he asked, only half-joking as he flexed in a goofy pose to make her laugh. Clorica smiled fleetingly but couldn’t hide her disinterest in his silliness well enough. Was that a scar? Was he hurt?

The history major cocked his head. “What’s wrong, babe?”

“You… Did something happen to your side?”

Leon averted his eyes. “Yeah. A couple days ago.”

“Are you okay?” Clorica asked, crossing the small dorm room and putting her hands on her boyfriend’s hips. “Did you get hurt? Do you need to see a doctor?”

“Oh, no, not at all,” he smiled at her concern, tucking a part of her bangs behind her ear. “Don’t worry about it.”

“But... what is it?”

The boy knew from the tone of his partner’s voice that this wasn’t a question she’d let go or forget about after a nap or a kiss. He sighed, biting his lip. He knew he’d have to tell her eventually, but he hadn’t exactly planned it out yet.

“Leo?”

Wordless, Leon put one of his hands over Clorica’s hand and pulled up one side of his shirt with the other.

The hospitality major leaned in to look at the smooth, tan skin broken only by-

“Maria,” it didn’t sound like a question, but there were dozens of questions bubbling up in the girl’s throat, hot with jealousy that she tried to swallow.

Leon coughed. “Um, Kiel turned eighteen last week, and he wanted me to come with him to get his first. I thought I’d get one, too,” he said slowly, tracing the tiny black letters.

Clorica’s expression asked ‘who?’ before she found the courage to say it aloud.

“You… You might wanna sit down for this one, it’s, uh. A bit of a story.”

Clorica sat back down on the futon silently and rigidly, body language betraying his sudden distrust.

Leon sat down beside her, slowly reaching for her hand. The girl didn’t take it, but she didn’t move it away. Leon took a deep breath and squeezed his girlfriend’s hand before starting.

“When I was five, my parents made friends with some people across the block,” he began, reading Clorica’s expressions intently. “They didn’t have any kids my age, but they did have a three year old daughter. I always wanted younger siblings, even then, so naturally I kinda took her under my wing.”

Clorica nodded slightly at the pause, wanting the explanation to continue.

“We were friends for years. We’d explore the whole neighborhood, and the forest right next to it. We’d find bugs and critters and we’d try to adopt them all, but our parents would never let us,” a smile creeped onto his face, “but we’d always try. We were so close, and when you’re that young you can.. conflate that kind of thing with love. I mean, we loved each other, but kids can’t love  - like romantic love, you know? Um. So one year, I think she was about seven and I was nine, she asked if she could marry me when we got older. I got proposed to by a seven year old!” he laughed, hoping Clorica would laugh along, but she only managed a grimace. Uncomfortable, he continued. “So I, uh, I said yes, because I knew that would make her happy. I also knew she’d chase me around the block until I agreed to it. So for a few years, that was our thing. We were kinda engaged. When we got older it became like a joke. She would like someone, or I would tell her I kissed a girl for the first time, and we’d dramatically accuse the other of cheating before begging for details. But, uh,” Leon swallowed hard, looking at his knees and unconsciously squeezing Clorica’s hand harder. “When she was fifteen-” his voice broke and he covered his mouth with his free hand, fixing his eyes on the opposite wall. Clorica shifted towards him, eyebrows freshly knitted in concern.

Leon inhaled shakily and continued. “When she was fifteen, she was walking to my house, and to get from her house to mine you have to cross the street, and some… some **_fucker_ ** was driving way over the speed limit and… and…”

Clorica pulled Leon towards her and let him be supported by her tiny frame. She buried her face in his hair, filling her nose with his comforting scent and pressing her lips onto his forehead as Leon’s broad shoulders shook silently. She ran her fingers through his long, soft hair over and over until Leon’s breathing finally slowed.

“I’m so sorry, Leo.”

“It’s not your fau-”

“I’m so sorry. About Maria. About getting jealous. I’m so, so sorry. I wish I could have met her.”

Leon smiled into her shoulder.

“You would’ve liked her. And she you.”

Clorica squeezed him closer, placing her hand over the tattoo as she kissed him softly on the lips, tasting the tear residue there and wishing more than anything that she could make this right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I did all of the prompts. Yes, I know was only supposed to pick one. Yes, I actually ship these two. Yes, I do hope I converted you.


End file.
